This Night
by Permanently
Summary: Let the 6th Hunger Games begin! District 4 didn't just start out with careers, they slowly came to be. The first career way of thought. Can Marina Redsea conquer her Games, as well as her fears? Rated T for violence and language.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The Hunger Games belong to the lovely and talented Suzanne Collins, because if I owned it (which I don't) I wouldn't be writing fanfiction about it. She owns it all. **

The cold, frigid morning air slashes violently as I open the broken window. Even the weather seems to be mad. Almost every other house—if you could call them that—on my street has their curtains drawn, except for the one across from mine. There's a little blonde girl who looks to be about seven, sitting on the windowsill, swinging her legs joyously. I know this girl. I took tesserae out for her, since her family was starving and she was too young to apply. Apparently, she doesn't know what day it is like the other houses do. I don't blame the other houses. Today is the reaping.

Not only is today the day were twenty-three kids get theoretically sent to their death, but it's also more for me. Exactly one year ago today, my sister died. Theoretically. Me and my family, along with others—one-hundred-five families to be exact—get to relive the horror that was one to five years ago. Being one of the unfortunate few, my pain is still somewhat fresh.

My elder sister, Cora, was reaped for the 5th Hunger Games. Being from District 4, she had a natural advantage in spear throwing, so it got her to the final ten. Sadly enough, another tribute also had this knowledge. And he used this said knowledge to throw a spear into her neck, letting her not only die slowly and painfully, but letting her die by choking on her own blood.

I'm brought back to my time by one of the neighbourhood strays idly chasing a bird, which seems to be taunting the cat by flying up into the air so the cat can't reach. That bird is pushing it's luck, not knowing what another being will do for food.

The little girl suddenly notices me, and calls out to me. "Lady! Your kitty is runnin' away! You better catch him before he kills that poor birdie!" What a sweet kid. She probably grew up around murder, seeming as she doesn't even flinch when the stray leaps onto a wooden crate and then pounces at the bird, striking it down with one blow. "Oh well! Mr. Birdie wasn't cut out for flying!" She giggles, swings her legs into the house, and hops out of view.

"How despicable." says my mother, who seems to have come into my room while I was looking at the girl. "To think, the Capitol has turned us into people like that." She puts her arms around me, as if knowing what I was thinking about just a little while ago. "I'm glad that you're still here... I would just die if I lost both of my daughters." I hope she doesn't mean that literally.

If she found out what I did, I knew she would have a heart-attack. In all honesty, I took out extra tesserae. She knows I took out extras to feed some extremely poor families, but she doesn't know how_ much_ I took out. Besides, it doesn't matter if she loses me too. About ten months ago, we started getting money in a little wicker basket. It was enough to keep us fed for exactly one month plus some extra, and then every month later on the exact same day, we'd get it again. We have no idea who sends it, because every time we get a basket, it only has a little card saying _'She told me to' _on it.

"Don't worry, I have no plans of leaving" It pains me so much to lie to her, especially after last year's horrible turn of events. "I'm going to stay here..." Another lie. She has no idea what I've been planning for the last year.

She pulls away, but not in a mean way, just to signal me that our moment of mourning is over. "Good, now let's get you all sparkly clean for the reaping." The word nearly brings her to tears, but she shuffles away before I can even see if it does.

After my bath, my mother puts the top half of my hair into an expertly styled clip, so that it fans out over the edges of the clip. The bottom half of my hair is just left down in its natural wave, which I know is just to tick me off. I hate my hair down, and on past occasions, I've made very sure people know that.

Using two cracked and dusty mirrors, I get a better look at the clip. It's shaped like a butterfly, so that if you pull the wings together, the body opens up into a dozen little teeth to hold the hair. It just radiates elegance. The whole thing is made out of what looks to be ivory, which is extremely rare, considering the animal from which it came from went extinct nearly one-hundred years ago.

"Where did you get this? It must have cost a lot." I ask softly. We never were the richest family, although we aren't poor either. We're somewhat middle-class, and since we started getting the baskets, we started to buy more material things. Not things like jewelry and whatnot, just things to make life a little easier. Like a stove, a working bathtub. Things like that.

"It was my mother's. I wore it to mine and your father's wedding day." She replies, in the same tone as mine. It must mean a lot to her to let me wear it. "Your father absolutely adores it."

And then, as if on cue, he bursts into the room. "I'm home early." he says. We all stop, and I know I'm not the only one thinking about what happened a year ago. He always has been one to state the obvious. Even when Cora got chosen as a tribute, he started mumbling to himself about how she couldn't have gotten picked, no tesserae, etcetera, etcetera.

My parents are complete opposites in looks. My dad, being 6 feet tall, with short auburn hair, contrasts weirdly with my mom, a short, long haired blonde. And despite that fact, they are the exact same in personality. They both live for jokes. Another thing the same about them, is that they both work at the same station in the docks. In-fact, that's where they met. They want me to work there when I'm older, so that I can meet a boy there, fall in love, and all that junk. But the only person I ever felt that way about never knew, and then he went into the Hunger Games. And won. Needless to say, I hate him now.

"Well, let's get you into a dress now. Don't want you to just be pretty from just the neck up." My mother always seems to know how to break silence.

She puts me into one of her old dresses from when she was a teenager. The dress itself is beautiful, being a light shade of blue, but not the memories behind it. This is the dress that Cora wore exactly one year ago.

"Well, we should go now. The reaping will start in a bit." says my mother. She must know this. I don't really blame her. The dress is absolutely striking. At the last moment, she puts me into a pair of 3-inch, matching light blue heels. I absolutely despise heels, but since I have nothing else that matches, I don't complain.

As we near the square, I get separated from my parents. It's normal procedure in District 4. There's just not enough room for everybody, so the actual square is reserved for potential tributes. This year, the makeshift stage is covered in blue and white balloons, and two, oversized and poorly decorated banners hang limp at the back of the stage. I quietly head to the seventeen's, and watch as the square fills up. It doesn't take that long, considering how almost everyone wants to get this over with. I don't really have any friends to stand with, because I don't really have time. Nobody really does, because all you get to do is go to school, work, and sleep. And then, something hits me. If I _do_ get picked, what will my angle be? I can't be a killer, because then I'll be targeted, and if I choose to be a weakling, I won't get any sponsors.

The mayor, a tall, wiry guy in his forties, walks onto the stage and recites the history of Panem. He doesn't like it as much as the rest of us. The speech is required, but I don't see why. We all know the exact details of what happened. It only occurred 5 short years ago. After about thirty minutes or so explaining, he finally introduces our new guests. "Will you please welcome our escort, Sohalia Senn!" Suddenly, one of the poorly decorated banners in the background rips apart and a short, overly tan woman with electric blue hair jumps out onto the stage.

"Hello to the wonderful District four! How're we all feeling today? As you all probably know, I just got moved here two games ago from District six! They said I had 'energy' and 'spunk' but I know I have more for you!" Great. Our escort is still a psychopath. "And now, let's meet our previous victor! Isn't that great? It's only five games in and you already have a mentor!" I freeze.

I didn't think he would come back. I thought all victors just got to win, and then live out the rest of their life in victory. I thought that Wyatt Afton, my previous crush, would leave forever. I don't like him now, though. In-fact, I despise him. He's a murderer now. He showed no mercy in his games.

Instead of making a scene by running through a banner, Wyatt just walks in, and sits down like an average human being, but he's far from that. He's a monster in human form. He pretends to be occupied with his bangs, shaking the short, white-blonde hair out of his eyes. It's not long or anything, but it's not short enough to stay out of his eyes.

The psychopath escort is speaking again, this time to announce the new rules. "Now, a lot of you absolutely loved the new tesserae rule, because according to my data..." She stops, as if not sure how to go on. "One of the girl tributes has apparently taken out two-thousand-eight-hundred-seventy-three slots of tesserae, which is the exact number of girls between the ages of twelve and eighteen... What a coincidence! And I'm just getting word that all that tesserae has been given to the poorer people in the district! What a loving lady!" I absolutely love the recognition, even if people don't know it was me.

And suddenly, all the girls in the roped-off area let out a sigh of relief, because their chances have instantly just gotten cut in half. A feeling of happiness spreads through me as I now that I've given them another chance at life. If only it be for a year.

Sohalia regains her control over the crowd, and is now walking over to the boy's bowl. "Let's find out our lucky little gentleman, shall we?" She opens the glass bowl, and digs her hand around for what seems like hours. Finally, she pulls her hand out with a slip of paper. "Aiden Brandt!" Ironic. Aiden and Brandt both mean fire, and coming from a District who's entire industry is based on the sea, lakes, and water-dwelling creatures, I'd say he must feel left out. I seem to be the only one who notices this, because I'm getting weird looks for giggling.

A flat-muscled, shaky boy from the sixteen's walks up to the stage, getting a wild applause from Sohalia. I nearly burst out laughing. His flaming red hair completely matches his name. Even his freckles are a peachy red color.

Sohalia then walks over to the girl's bowl, which has been doubled in size because of the mysterious tesserae taker, and opens the bowl up. "Now let's get a look at our lucky girl this year! It must be hard on you young ladies, being as someone took half your chance away! You must want to just attack her!" Oh, right. She thinks it's a good thing to be picked. Oh well. I have the odds I want. She reaches in. She pulls it out. It feels as if life is in slow motion. "Tia Atwater!" What the hell! The odds were entirely in my favour!

Tia doesn't even get a chance to walk out of her roped area, because I'm already rushing forward. "I volunteer!" I couldn't have been any louder.

"Alright! Tia, you may go... Or since you never had the chance to come up, you can just stay there!" She turns back to me. "May you give this wonderful audience your name?" She asks me. Wonderful audience? I know I'm not the only one who hates her. At the last moment, I get an idea for an angle. I put one hand on my hip and lay the other against my side. I put on my best cocky smile and walk over to Aiden, turning sharply on one heel to face the audience. I'm glad my mother put me in heels. They make a nice _clack clack_ sound on the hard wood stage, giving me a mature aura.

"Marina Redsea" I gasp, my voice still hurting from yelling. I try and put as much sarcasm into my voice, because as of late, that is the only angle I can pull of with ease. At the mention of my last name, Wyatt snaps his head up.

"I just bet you were the one who took out all that tesserae, since you rushed to volunteer!" Before I can even answer, she addresses the audience. "Let's give a hand to our two tributes this year! Aiden Brandt and Marina Redsea!" The audience gives the mandatory applause. "Oh! And before I forget, the Reapings have a new feature from here on out!" This gets my attention. "From here on forth, the family and friends of each tribute will be able to visit that tribute for an hour before departure." Oh, _crap_.

And so, ten minutes later, I get a slap in the face and a wet shoulder. My mother seems to have mixed emotions on this, and my father just sits on the plush couch, elbows on his knees, and head in his hands.

"Why? Why did you volunteer? Do you know this Tia? Was it actually you who took out all that tesserae? How could you! Even after last year!" My mother gets this in between her sob outbursts. She just leans against me, crying for the next half hour.

"I'm sorry, mother, but I made my mind up. I took out all the tesserae so that I wouldn't back out later, and so I could at least save some children doing this! Mother, I've saved lives, and when I win, I'll not only be saving lives, but I'll be getting the district food and money, so nobody will ever live in poverty again!" By the end of it, I'm rambling. And crying. Sort of a mix of both.

"But... why?"

"I don't know... I guess I wanted to do what Cora couldn't." It's true. I don't really know, yet I do. When Cora died, I realized that I didn't want to be just another girl who feared the reaping, and whose family died from it. I wanted to show that District 4 wasn't afraid of the Hunger Games. That we could dominate these games.

"Cora." My mother moans. "She died so... awfully." It's true.

During the games, Cora allied up with someone else. She and her ally got the best weapons of the Cornucopia, among other things such as food and medicine, set up camp, and lived it normal Hunger Games style. Attack other tributes or get attacked. And then, on one fateful dark night, as she was returning to her camp, her ally turned around and speared her. It wasn't on purpose, of course. Her ally just thought another tribute was sneaking up on him, so he reacted. It took her 4 painful minutes to die, and her ally did nothing but watch. He didn't even consider a mercy killing. On the bright side, everyone in the capitol was too busy watching the boy from District 6 get eaten alive by a murder of crows, so Cora's death didn't get that much publicity. They might have forgotten about her, but I never will.

My dad's voice shocks me. He hasn't spoken once since this morning. "Just make sure you win."

After another half hour of tears, apologies and heartbreaking goodbyes, the peacekeepers come to get me. They lead me to a humungous train, where I meet up with Sohalia, Aiden, and Wyatt. Wait, what? "Aren't only tributes supposed to get on the train?" I ask dumbly.

"Oh, no, no, no!" Sohalia squeels. We're not even on the train yet and I already want to slap her. "The escort and mentor stay with you throughout the entire prep week! Now, let's go get on that train! We don't want it to leave without us!"

No. For an entire week, I'm going to be stuck with the Psychotic Sohalia, a quiet Aiden, and the man who murdered my sister, Wyatt Afton.

**A/N: Started slow, but it'll get better. I'm not big on explaining the beginnings. Oh, and also, the title 'This Night' will be explained later on. Sometime during the actual games bit.**


	2. Chapter 2

"So, how does it feel to be the start of season two?" Sohalia pries from me and Aiden. We've only been on the train for ten minutes, and she's already talking away. I think she has ADD.

"What do you mean, season?" I ask in a bored voice. If no one responds, she gets angry. I've learned that in less than a half hour with her.

"Well, every Hunger Game is compacted into two hours of major footage, such as the chariots, the winner's interview, the scores, and, of course, the games themselves." She tells me quickly. I can barely keep up with her whiney chatting, and this isn't any better. "And then, at the end of each five, they take the ten hours of film and put it into a season, so that people can buy it and replay their favourite games." She digs through a little shelf under the flat screen TV on the wall, and pulls out a cardboard box. "See?" she asks. She holds onto one flap of it and the whole thing unfolds into five sections. "And each game has its own disc." On each flap, there's poses of the victor.

"Huh. I never knew that." So this is all they take us for? Entertainment?

"Well, they say you learn something new every day! But wait! If that's the case, then I need to learn something!" Sohalia practically yells. Oh god, I can see where this is going. "What about you two? What's District four like? How about your family? Any boyfriends?" She stage elbows me. "Anything cool about you two?" If everyone in the Capitol is an idiot like this, I think I'll die in the arena, so that I never have to face them again.

"I don't know about fire-boy here, but I've got a pretty average life. No boyfriend, loving parents, school, work on the docks, you know. I don't really have time for any extra activities. Nothing special, just _the usual_." I add as much sarcasm as I can into that last bit and look directly at Wyatt. I hope he hears the double meaning in my last sentence. I want him to know that he's responsible. That he took my sister away. That it's his entire fault, and that I'll never forgive him. Wyatt drops his gaze and stays quiet. Good.

"Oh! What a charming life! Why don't you have a boyfriend?" Sohalia asks, surprised.

"Oh, I don't know. I guess I've never had the time." I say sweetly. Since I'm going to be stuck with her for a week, I might as well try and be nice. Who knows, maybe if I'm mean to her, she'll teach me the wrong way to hold a fork. The horror!

"Well, now if you win all the boys will be lining up around the block!" She says. They will be lining up around the block, but not in the reason she thinks. When I win—and believe me, I will—I'm going to put up sort of a... free food store in town. Even with parcel day, some people still go to sleep hungry. I'll use all the money I get as a victor to feed the hungry. Even if it means that I starve.

I'm in such a daze from my daydreaming of what it would be like to save District 4, I don't even realize the train has stopped. "Why are we stopped?" I ask dumbfounded, to no one in particular.

The one who answers shocks me. "We're going to go up a mountain and it'll use up extra fuel, so we need to fill up. Even though we live in District four, it still takes six hours and twenty-eight minutes to get to the Capitol." Wyatt answers. This is the first time he's ever spoken to me, much less acknowledged me. I'm sure he knows this. He must.

Aiden seems to notice the awkward pause and takes this chance to break it. "Six hours and twenty-eight minutes exactly? How do you know?" he says in a bored sort of tone. I want to hug him for doing that.

"I've taken this trip a lot of times. The Capitol just seems to love me, what with my amazing performance in the games, and in bed." he says. Disgusting, but then again, that was his angle. Well, it wasn't so much an angle as a lifestyle. He played the 'full of himself teenager' for the interviews. The Capitol thinks that he has girls at his doorstep, which is true now that he won. It was slightly true before, considering his looks. I make a disgusted face, while Aiden just blushes. He won't last one minute in the games. "Relax, I'm only kidding!" He says when he notices mine and Aiden's stares. "Sometimes your angle sticks with you, since you have to be that person whenever there's a camera." There must be a lot of cameras.

Sohalia takes this opportunity of silence to nag us with her annoying shrill of a voice. "So, what's the plan today? Strategy, Reapings or just relax and eat?" she asks.

"How about we watch the Reapings and then eat. We could go over strategy at the Tribute Tower." I say, when no one else answers.

"Oh! That's absolutely perfect, darling! And before we talk strategy we can watch the previous games." she says enthusiastically. Why will we have to watch the games? I don't want to watch Cora's death for a second time. Once was too much.

"Why do we have to watch the old games? Is it mandatory or something?" I say. There's no way in hell that I want to watch it again.

"So you can pick up strategies. It's not far at all in the games and some people have already made some of the best choices of all time. You two need to pick up on that." Wyatt says. He's not saying it as an insult, just as a point of critique. A helpful pointer. Like a mentor.

The train started up some time in our conversation, and we were all slightly swaying with the train. Sohalia suggests we watch the Reapings, so that we can pick out who is ally worthy, and enemy worthy. In the main room, an entire wall has been devoted to a silver and black wall television, and in front of which is a giant, four-person sofa. I sit at the farthest left, and rub my hand over the material. It's a hard, smooth black surface. The material some of the equipment is made out of on the docks. Leather. Sohalia and Aiden take up the right part, leaving me to sit with Wyatt. I'm not being forced to talk with him, but it still feels weird being close to him.

Suddenly, the official seal of Panem flashes on the screen. I guess we don't get to choose when we want to watch. They're forcing us to watch it at the same time. The anthem is blares throughout the room, making me jump. The sound is coming in at me from every angle imaginable. It feels like I'm drowning in it.

Wyatt notices this, taps my shoulder, and points at the wall to my left. What is he doing? He then points to other spots around the walls, and even on the ceiling and roof. "To scare the tributes." he whispers. Is he trying to scare me? Because it's working. He could possibly be trying to psyche me out before the games so I lose. And then I notice them. Tiny black lines, all over the room. Empty lines in the wall, filled with a black cloth like material, trembling slightly as the music raises.

"Speakers." I gasp. The Capitol is giving the tributes subtle hints. To say that we can't escape. That they're better than us.

The Reapings start and all conversation dies off. I try my hardest to concentrate on the tributes, but I just can't. They are all so dull. The only ones with actual muscle are the pairs from District 1 and 2, and me and Aiden. That's always been the case in the short history of the Games. We just have a natural advantage because of our district's industry. I'm not quite sure what District 2 does, but District 1 mines jewels for the Capitol. The Capitol absolutely adores District 1. The tributes from there and District 2 look like worthy allies. Or adversaries. I haven't decided yet.

When we get to District 9, we're practically asleep. Even their clothes are dull, because not everyone has enough money for special clothes. I never really thought about how lucky I was in District 4. I can only imagine the poverty in District 9 and up. The tributes there are about five feet tall and have no muscle whatsoever. I'm about to get up and leave, because I don't need to see another crying little kid get reaped, when they announce the girl for District 10. She shocks not only the escort there, but almost everyone in the crowd. Even I stay to gawk at her. There's nothing wrong physically with her. She's average in every way. She's only wearing a neutral white shirt and black pants, which is actually quite fancy, considering where she's coming from. But no, it's not the clothes that matter. It's what's on the clothes. She's absolutely covered in blood.

"What the..." I begin. "Isn't District ten's industry livestock? And shouldn't she be arrested for open murder?"

"Their industry is also to package the meat up and send it to the Capitol, meaning she's a butcher. Judging by her clothes, I'd say she didn't have enough time in the morning to change out of her work clothes. So she probably works a lot." Aiden says quietly, but everyone can still hear him. That's the longest thing I've ever heard him say. "Her main weapon will most likely be a cleaver." he adds shyly.

I underestimated him. The little quiet Aiden is more cunning than he looks. I need to watch my back around him in the games. He might be someone to backstab me. He could even end up being ruthless.

At lunch, conversation is sparse, if any at all. That's quite rare, since Sohalia can barely keep her mouth closed. The food is absolutely astounding, but I don't find it attractive. The Capitol wants everyone to love them, so they lure the tributes in with sparkly clothes and delicious food. And that way, when a tribute wins, they don't have to worry about being hated by them, because they'll be hypnotized by their world of extravagance.

We continue on with our quiet meal until Sohalia addressed me. "So, Marina. What did you mean when you called Aiden 'Fire-boy?'?"

"Both his names mean something about fire, and with his hair. I guess the name just kind of stuck." I say. I'm actually really good with names. When my grandmother first retired, she didn't know what to do, so she decided to take up a hobby. Well, it's not really a hobby. She just loved to find the meaning of things. You just had to compare it to other words, use that word's meaning and then put it all together. I remember when my mother would walk me over to her little house by the woods. It was only two rooms and it was pretty run down, but once you got inside, it had a rustic, homey charm to it. I adored the place. I even remember the longest word she could define. Something about an inflammatory disease of the lungs which was caused by inhaling a fine dust called silica. I preferred names over words. I find that the meaning of a person's name can show what they're like. Take my name, for example. It means 'of the sea' and I love the sea. Aiden's name also kind of explains him. His name means 'little fire.'

"That's so neat!" She says. It's obvious that she's feigning interest. "What does my name mean?" Of course, she always wants the spotlight on her.

"I don't know. I only know old-Panem names. Yours is from the Capitol." I say "Sorry."

"That just means I'm one of a kind!" She says. I have to give her credit. She's an optimist, even if she does get annoying at times. "Now, I'll go show you your quarters."

When Sohalia opened the door, I practically fainted. My room is ten times the size of my old room. Sohalia said that we had five hours to waste, so I headed straight for the princess bed. And now, after an hour of basking in the luxury of my room, does the truth finally hit me. I thought that the games would be a piece of cake, but with what we watched on the Reapings... I actually have competition. The girl from District 10 opened my eyes. I've been completely ignorant to those around me. Even the shy Aiden has something I overlooked. I need to kick it into high gear, or else I might not win. And believe me, I _will_ win.

From now on, every waking minute I live will be fixated on these games. I will do anything to find out everything about my opponents, even if they seem weak. I will watch the games over and over again, even if it means that I have to watch Cora's death again. I won't leave a single detail unknown. I will force myself to remember the patterns of blood in the ground, no matter how much my mind and body protest. I will pick up on the Gamemaker's style of attack, and I will learn to counter it. And most of all, I will have to put my life in the hands of my mentor.


	3. Chapter 3

The pain is overwhelming. It feels as if I'm being shot at every point of my body. My blood is threatening to spill out of every orifice I have. My entire being wants to scream, to plead for help. For somebody to come and save me. I want to cry so much, but I know this will just be a test for the real games. If I can withstand this, I might be able to tolerate more pain. If I cry in front of the cameras, I'm a weakling. This is my training, and if it will help me to win the games, even in the slightest, then bring it on.

And throughout all this pain, I am expected to answer mindless questions. I can barely open my mouth, because my teeth are so clenched. I might have ground them down to stubs. "I'm sorry!" says one of my prep team members. Jacklin, I think her name is. She at least has a little sympathy for me. "On the bright side, you're almost done." She starts to pat my shoulder but stops when I cringe in pain. That was one of the firstly tweezed areas, and two hours later, it still feels like it's on fire.

"Done!" Arcadia announces with one final, painful tweeze. "Now, give her the pill!" I hate this one already. The last one, Feraj, comes in holding a glass of what I hope to be water, and a medium, thumbnail sized, circular pill. I was lucky enough to get an all girl prep team. They even had the heart to let me go and put my hair clip away so I don't lose it.

"What will 'the pill' do?" I ask. "If you don't mind my asking." I'm trying to be as nice as I can to them, because if I upset them, they'll do a bad job on making me presentable. I want as much sponsors as I can, and normally, the prettier tributes get them.

"It will stop your... womanhood from happening for two months." Jacklin says shyly. I like her the most. She comes off as the most normal in personality, but in appearances, she's far from it. All three members of my prep team decided to go with a matching 'urban' look. Jacklin is dressed as an old-Panem actress, complete with a feather boa and oversized white shades, Arcadia is supposed to be a paper-girl, and I don't even know what Feraj is attempting to be. She looks like a cross between a hawk and a shark. Her short, cropped hair is dyed a vivid orange and spiked up and tilted sideways so it looks 'wind-blown' and she's dressed entirely in blue. Not to be mean or anything, but they all scare me to death.

"Oh. I wouldn't want that to happen in the games." I say. That would give me a disadvantage. I don't want anything to slow me down. As Feraj comes to me with the pill, I pounce at it and swallow it. One less thing to slow me down.

"Now, let's get you to Anero." Arcadia says triumphantly as she hands me a robe. I am sick and tired of their ridiculous names. Where do they come up with this stuff?

They lead me to a set of red double doors, which looked oddly medieval. I guess old is in. When we walk in, they lead me to a plush, pink loveseat in the shape of lips. My prep team stand behind me in a military fashion. They must respect this Anero. A lot.

In front of me is a black-legged, glass topped table with a fruit bowl. I have to admit, I'm getting tortured in style. I like it.

About five minutes later, a tall man walks in. His tattoos are a light purple, and they swirl over his forehead, around his eyes, and then carry down to his neck. He looks to be no older than me. It must be surgery. He's wearing a turquoise jacket over an orange low cut top. His pants—and I kid you not—are a soft evergreen. It doesn't match. Not at all. I swear on my life, if I get put in some sort of topless, scaly legged mermaid suit, like three years ago, I will kill this guy. Half naked mermaids do not get sponsors.

Suddenly, a member of my prep team breaks out of the military state. "Won't her hair be just wonderful in the arena!?" Feraj bursts out. What does she mean? My hair isn't different from any one else's. It's just a deep black, with a natural wave.

Anero shoots her a look and she quickly clasps her hands over her mouth. "I'm so sorry! I didn't think... I didn't mean to!"

"Don't ever do it again." Anero says. "Now dismiss." Needless to say, they got out of there pretty quickly. The big red doors made a horrifying thud as they closed. It added more drama to the moment.

"Why did you let her go? She could've just given me an unfair advantage." I say. I really don't mind the unfair advantage. No, I welcome it. Curiosity just gets the better of me on occasion.

"She's new." he says with a wave of his hand. He probably pities her, since he must have been new once too. "Everybody makes mistakes. There's no need to fire anybody. Besides, I would have to do paperwork if she was to leave." he adds with a coy smile.

He doesn't seem so bad. He's someone I could talk to if this were real life.

"Now, let's go do your hair." he says. I wonder why my prep team acted so formal in front of him.

An hour later, I know. After he acted so nice to me, he practically dragged me to a sink made to wash my hair. He then continued to etch his fingernails into my scalp to make sure every old piece of skin was disposed of. He brought the blow dryer in too close to my head, causing me to almost scream out in pain. I can't believe I thought the prep team was bad. This is triple that.

All that pain is put to good use though, because when he's done, my hair is curled into light ringlets, the tips of each are dyed an electric blue, the exact colour of my freshly painted nails. The colour of Sohalia's hair. It's the same colour as the ocean back home.

"Let's put you in the dress. We don't want you to only be pretty from just the neck up." That's exactly what my mother said to me before the reaping. I hope she is not mad at me. She must be devastated because I left.

My outfit is a tight-fitted corset dress with dozens of folds at the waist down. It's the same shade of blue as my nails, but with intricate silver swirls made out of sparkles at the folds. He gives me a little silver tiara with deep blue jewels embedded in it. I know this stone. It's my mother's birthstone. Sapphire.

"Am I supposed to be a princess?"

"Not really, but you'll get it when you meet up with your district partner."

And get it, I do. We're ancient gods of the sea. Aiden even has a worn and bronzed trident. I have mixed feelings for my stylist. He has a great idea this year, but he's making me look vulnerable next to Aiden. That won't get me sponsors.

When I'm walking to the district 4 chariot, Wyatt rushes up to me. "Get the attention." he whispers to me. What does he mean? Nobody has ever brought a weapon to the opening ceremonies, so we're guaranteed to get all of the attention. The chariot starts moving before I can think more about it. The District 1 tributes, in stunning jewelled outfits quickly steal the spotlight, leaving no attention for 2 or 3. When we come out, we get a loud applause, but it's dulled because of District 1. I pity the other districts. They're nothing compared to us. I was starting to think that this wouldn't be a good choice in clothes because of sponsor issues, but it's great. I smile and wave to the crowd. They adore it.

After about fifteen minutes, I realize that we've not been getting as much attention. I subtly turn behind me, and realize why we aren't getting the desired applause. The District 10 girl is dressed in a white dress with red splotches, randomly—but strategically—placed around the dress. To signify blood. How dare her! Now I know why Wyatt told me to get the attention. She will get all the sponsors if I don't do something—and quick. We're almost to the main stage. I have to do something new. Something that will show I can fight. That I'm not a little ocean princess.

"Mind if I be a bit... bold?" I say to Aiden. I hope he can hear me over the shouts from the audience.

"So you notice it to?" I nod. He really is attentive. He must actually put up a challenge in the arena. I should keep him on my good side. I hope he won't get mad. Suddenly, I rip of my tiara and fling it into the crowd where a frantic photographer catches it. He's instantly swarmed. Before Aiden knows it, I grab his trident. He feigns shock. It's obvious he's faking from two feet away from him, but the crowd can't tell smile from frown up here.

I just robbed the other districts of all the attention, all while showing the audience that I'm not the girl I look like.

After the opening ceremonies, everyone is directed into a room with about five elevators. The speech was incredibly boring. It was too dark for my comfort. It wasn't pitch-black, but it still frightened me. The others tributes look like nothing, but I don't count anyone out. Everyone is now a murderer in my eyes. The tributes are idly chatting with either their partner or escort. Wyatt and the other victors are talking to each other. This is the way it's always been. In the history of five games, the only alliances were between district partners. This might be the year to change that.

"Now, let's go show you our floor!" Sohalia says. "I just know that you'll both love it!"

Our floor is huge. If I thought the train was big, then this is massive. It's set in a glossy, blue, black, and white theme. Probably since we're from District 4, where in almost every direction you look, there's a form of blue. I walk over to the giant window. City light glisten like stars. Buildings sore high, even higher than this one. Cameras flash from below. The whole thing is surreal.

"Both your rooms are down that hall." Sohalia points to a long hallway towards the west wing of our floor. "The one on the left is Marina's, and the one on the right is Aiden's. You should both get to sleep."

We both agree and walk to our rooms in silence. I'm surprised that Sohalia didn't walk me to the door. Maybe she didn't want me to run off the train, so she kept a close eye on us. Or maybe she just feels like giving us some freedom.

My room is nearly the same as on the train, except that this room is doubled in space and it has its own bathroom. I instantly head there to take a shower. There's an entire wall devoted to buttons and labels. There's a column of buttons that are all named for flowers. It must be fragrances. I know some of these flowers, like the basic 'roses' and 'sunflower' but there is also some that I don't know of. I pick one that says 'anthurium,' and suddenly, the shower head deposits a sweet, foam like substance. I like this flower already, even though I don't know what it looks like. The blue in my hair is temporary, and it swirls around at the bottom of the shower before getting swallowed by the drain.

When I get out, I rummage through the ivory dresser to find something to sleep in. There are only silk nightgowns that cling to my sweaty skin. It's annoying, but I'll live.

After my little nightgown adventure, I sit on the bed. I don't feel like falling asleep yet.

Sohalia knocks on my door, and then opens it, not even bothering for my response. "I just talked it over with your mentor, and tomorrow, we're going to wake up early to watch the games and then we're going to talk strategy." Good, I need to strategize some more. I need as much help from the previous games as I can get. Even Cora's game. "Now go to sleep, you've got a big day tomorrow!" She turns off the light, closes the door, and walks away. Almost immediately, I hop out of bed and run to the light switch.

I despise the dark. At home, I could live with it because our house was so small, and I had family with me, but in here, all alone, in a giant room, I can't take it. I've always been afraid of the dark, but the fact that there will always be light the next day helps me put up with it. That might just be the one thought that will help me survive my fear throughout the games. Tomorrow's light.

**A/N: Aloha! Title, semi-revealed-ish! Keep reading, because I have the most baddest ass arena planned out.**


	4. Chapter 4

I wake up early. I don't know how early, but early enough that Sohalia hasn't come to get me yet. The morning sun streams in the window. I don't like it. It doesn't feel natural, like everything else here. I don't feel like getting up, but I stand up on shaky legs and walk over to the light switch, but on my way I pass the mirror. All I see is the flash of my white face surrounded by complete darkness. My hair blends in with the darkness, and random peices of hair fall over my forehead, giving the illusion that I have cracks on my face. I guess I'll find out what that comment means when I get to the arena. I flip the switch and bask in the artificial light. I love the light. It shows a person's true nature. I collapse back into bed. I don't feel like watching the games today. I don't want to relive Cora's death. Cora. Cora, my beautiful, loving sister. Cora, who's murderer is right down the hall. I could avenge her right now by killing him in his sleep, but that will only cause trouble for me in the games. The gamemakers wouldn't want the killer of one of their victors to win. They want a killer of children to win.

My thoughts drift back to Cora. Cora got killed by the weirdest spear ever. The shaft had zigzagging lines at both ends. The tip, instead of being a regular point, was shaped like a heart. It was pretty ironic, since a heart gives life, and spears kill. Sometimes, when I'm in the dark, I think everything long and skinny is that spear. It's one of the main reasons I'm afraid of the dark. Cora teased me like mad when we were kids.

She pretended like I didn't matter, but I knew she loved me. Well, I hope she did. We used to go for walks and pet the stray cats that lived in the ally by our house. She once took one home, and begged our mother to keep it, but we didn't have the time to take care of an animal. She used to tell me that when she grows up, she's going to build a shelter for all the cats and adopt them all. I guess I have one more thing to do when I win. Build the 'Cora Cat Shelter.'

Sohalia doesn't even need to knock on my door to wake me up. Her shoes on the hardwood floor are enough noise to wake up a drunk. "Up!" she screams. "We need to watch 5 hunger games in one single day, and then we have to strategize! Up! Up! Up!" I'm not even asleep and she's yelling at me.

When I walk in the room, I find that all four arm chairs have been dragged into the center of the room. The glass topped table in front of the TV has a weird selection of food and drinks on it. What is this, movie night? I sit down in the chair that's closest to the center of the TV. As much as I don't, I want the best view possible.

Aiden comes in rubbing his eyes, and sits down in the other center seat. He obviously slept in. If I got yelled at and I was already awake, I can only imagine what he got. Poor boy.

The elevator doors opened up, and Wyatt walks in holding two little white pads and yellow sticks. Without warning, he tosses one to me and the other to Aiden. Then he throws the sticks. It's a notepad and a pencil. "You'll want to take notes." He says, noticing my confusion. I might need it. I won't know until we watch the games.

Sohalia raises the remote but stops herself. "Feel free to help yourself to the food and drinks." she says. What did she think I thought it was there for? Appearances? "Also, you might not remember, or know of, some moments on this."

"Why?" I ask. It's not like I've forgotten five years.

"On the disc release of the games, they mostly follow around the victor, since they won." Oh. That seems right. No one in the Capitol wants to watch a dead kid. They want to drool over living murderers. "Now, watch." It's going to be a long ten hours.

The whole thing is set up like a movie. Sometimes, in school, they would show a video about the history of Panem, or how to correctly spear a fish. It's not like we need to watch a video about that. It just comes to us naturally.

The first ever game is horrible. To show that they weren't joking, the Capitol situated the arena on the side of a volcano. An active volcano. The tributes from that made no alliances except with their District partner. They didn't know how to start, if they should run away or just stay and kill each other, so they all just stood there, looking dazed. And then the volcano erupted, the message clear. Kill or be killed. The blast killed ten innocent children, leaving the other to go mad. The District 1 tributes caught on pretty quickly, and made the games exciting so as not to get another blast. The whole thing lasted only a week. The District 1 male was crowned victor.

The second game was basically a repeat, except for the first official bloodbath at the cornucopia. The arena was a jungle of poisonous plants. No trees to hide behind. The Capitol is using their best ideas first. To make the pain even more unbearable. Tributes only allied with partners, and the District 2 male won, right after drowning his ally. He at least cried for her.

The next game is in the exact same fashion. A swarm of beetles killed off five of the tributes. Another terrible arena, and this one being dominated by District 2. This time the girl tribute won. The next game has a little bit of a switch up in it. The District 11 and 12 tributes all came together to form a four person alliance, a definite first for the Games. It came down to their pack and the District 1 tributes. Needless to say, the strong-armed diamond miner male won. The footage was mostly of the victors, so a lot of the gore wasn't shown. But still... even when all the weaklings came together, they went far. I wonder what would happen in an alliance of strong tributes. I get into a sort of routine. When someone dies, I take a note. When a gamemaker's event happens, I take a note. Alliance, note. Backstab, note.

And finally, Cora's game comes on. The arena was made for her. It came in three layers, a thicket of lush woods that includes the Cornucopia on one end, a rock face at the other, and right in the center, taking up most of the arena, was a giant stretch of ocean. Each area, however, had its own trap of deadly animals. The woods were filled with carnivorous birds. The cliff had vicious rams that would either eat you alive or head butt you right back into the ocean, which was filled to the brim with piranhas. Since Wyatt won that year, he was shown the most. He's _purposefully_ avoiding my gaze. I don't get how Sohalia said there was new footage. It looks all the same to me. About a day through the games, Wyatt discovers the ocean, and being from District 4, he runs in, not knowing the danger. Just as his right kneecap enters the water, the piranhas strike. A piranha jumps out and hits him on his forehead, disorienting him. They pull him by his leg deeper into the water, and just as his waist comes in contact with the water, a hand reaches out and grabs him. Cora. I nearly burst out in tears when I see her. We don't have pictures of her; we could never afford a camera. I thought I could handle to see her again, but I can't. It's just too much. She drags him onto the upper part of the beach, so they're concealed by trees but not in deep enough to get attacked by the birds. "Who is this?" he asks. He can't see because of blood in his eyes.

"Cora Redsea. Now shut up and lie still." She always was bossy. I miss that. Suddenly, the screen freezes on her. Her half smiling face is all over the TV. Sohalia has paused it.

"Isn't that your surname?" she asks. Doesn't she know anything about being subtle?

"Yes. She was my sister." I say with a grim smile. _Was_ my sister.

"Oh." says Sohalia. She doesn't need any more information. She gets the hint that I don't want to talk about it. She hits play, and it continues on with her bandaging up Wyatt. She saved his life, and he took hers away. If only he were in the games with me instead of Aiden. I would murder him.

When it gets to the part where Cora is coming back from getting food, on the night before her death, Wyatt leaves silently. Of course he doesn't want to watch as someone relives their own sister's death that he caused. I look away. I don't need to see it again either. The scene is etched into my mind. It goes like this: Wyatt turns around; spear poised for attack, and then in comes Cora, who gets a loving spear through the neck. The camera will zoom in on her shocked face and then to the spear, then it will switch to the scene where the District 6 boy gets eaten by crows, and then 4 minutes later, both his and Cora's cannon sound. Only it doesn't.

After he turns and spears her, the camera stays on her face for a while, and then switches to his. He's crying. His legs fall beneath him at the same time Cora falls. He keeps... apologizing to her. He does this for three minutes. She only has one minute of life left. If only my mother and father could see this. If only they could watch this next part, and know her dying words.

"Don't let her starve." A second later, her canon fires.

She's talking about _me_. Her last words were about _me_. Up until the moment she died, she was thinking about me. I don't want to see the rest of the tape. It's all just going to show her murderer. All I want to do is hurt him. Kick him, punch him, and even slap him. Gouge his eyes out. Anything. Anything to make him pay. But I can't. I know I can't.

I'm in a daze for the rest of the games, but I catch snippets of it. He takes the spear out of Cora's neck, and clears the beach and head for the woods. The remaining four have an all out battle, and two remain. They then go on to have a quick battle, and Wyatt is crowned the victor, and goes onto the hovercraft with the spear still in hand. Nothing new there.

"Did you get a lot of notes?" Sohalia asks. Of course, I took note of almost everything there. Aiden and I both nod. "I'll go get Wyatt; he needs to be here when we discuss your plans in the arena." As much as I don't want him here, it's for the best. Why not ask someone whose played the game?

Wyatt comes in, face void of emotion, and sits down. "So, what do you have in mind for the games? Are you going to be allies, or just play it separate?" he says.

The four person alliance got far in the third games, even though they were weaklings. Districts 1 and 2 are by far the strongest, because of natural advantage. I have to get rid of them quickly.

"I want a six person alliance. Between us, and Districts one and two." I say. "That way we can take them out early, so we don't have any major competition later on. And we won't have to find them, because they'll be right by us." I say. I sound like a killer.

"You didn't think about the downfall. They could realize what you're trying to do, and take you both out. Districts one and two could hate each other for all you know. Plus, for your angle, none of you would be able to be a killer, sly, mean or any of that. It would scare them away." Wyatt says. He's got me there. I didn't think of that part.

"Would it still work?" I ask.

"It might. The good outweighs the bad though. Although for the training session, you will have to show that you can be useful. Don't show your full strength until the private sessions." I forgot about those. I've been too busy planning out my performance in the games that I haven't spent any time on that.

"Are you alright with this?" I ask Aiden. He nods. I knew he wouldn't resist. The little pushover.

"Now, before we go on to discuss the training sessions, I need to know now if you want to be coached individually or together." He says. I don't have anything to hide. Besides, I wouldn't want to be stuck in a room with Wyatt.

"I'm fine with doing it togeth—" I start.

"Separately." So the little pushover has a backbone.


	5. Chapter 5

I'm not shocked. I'm curious, yet not shocked. He had to gain some independence sometime. He's obviously not hiding the fact that he's observant, because he's already shown me that. Even that must be dulled down, because why on Earth would you show your opponent the full extent of your talent. He must have a hidden factor, probably involving a weapon.

"Alright." I say. I look around for Sohalia, to see how she reacts, but she's nowhere to be found.

"You can go first." I say quickly to Aiden as I get out of my chair. That way I can get it out of Wyatt during our session. "Get me when you're done."

I walk to my room slowly, but they don't talk until I've gone safely into my room. Damn. It's no use trying to listen through the door; the thing is probably three inches thick, maybe more. I retire to my bed, sighing. What could Aiden be hiding? I know that he works on the dock, that's why he has so much muscle, but what else could he know? He could be an expert on knots, or fishhooks, but I don't see why he would hide that. Even if he did know those things, it would be easy to hide them if we strategized together. No. It must be something _big_. Something that he couldn't go through the games without. It couldn't be a trident. Those are a rarity even in District 4. Only the best fishermen can wield them, and only the best of those men get to use it. Aiden could be a swimmer. He could also be a part of the divers that go to collect oysters and clams. Also a no. That doesn't take much effort, and almost everyone in District 4 is a diver. Besides, odds are the gamemakers won't to do an arena with the same features two times in a row.

I think of everything from a pilot to a beekeeper before giving up. Aiden and Wyatt seem far from done, and they're yelling at each other. I can't hear their exact words, but I know that there is anger involved. Alot of anger. There's nothing to do. I think I'll have a shower. I don't want to get covered in any unknown substances, so I stick with the flower I used last time. Anthurium. I wonder if Aiden's Secret is flower arrangement. Maybe he could show me what an anthurium looks like. I wonder if it's poisonous.

About twenty minutes after my shower, Aiden knocks on my door. "Your turn." he says quietly. I can barely hear him speak, but I can hear him walking away. He's oddly big for someone so quiet.

When I walk in, it's as if no fight ever happened. Wyatt sits calm and composed in his chair, hands resting in his lap. He was yelling less than an hour ago. I sit down in the chair opposite him. I wonder how I am going to bring up the topic of Aiden. I can't just ask him. He has to be brought up.

"Strengths?" he asks. His voice is monotone. This is standard procedure.

"Spears, swimming, running. The basic District four package." I say. Nothing very special.

"Weaknesses?"

"Working under pressure, and anything involving strength." _Oh, and I'm also deathly afraid of the dark at age seventeen_. I want to add it, but I know I'll just get laughed at.

"Plan for the private session?" I had been dreading this part.

"No clue, at all." I might as well be honest about it.

"How good are you with a spear? How fast of a runner are you?" I've been late for work on more than one occasion, so I'm pretty damn fast.

"I've worked with a spear since I was five." Enough said. He gets the point.

"Then stay away from it." I've had it with all the one sentence speaking. He's not trying to be mean. I really should stay away from the spear station.

"About my plan for the alliance." I blurt out. "What if I don't have the courage to ask them?"

"Tomorrow; at the training center. Introduce yourself, follow them around a bit and make small talk. After you get on good terms, tell them about your alliance." he says. He said all of this too fast. He must have planned it out. That means he accepts it.

"What about when I'm in the games?"

We talk about my strategies, how to get rid of my enemies, how to get rid of the minor tributes, and everything of the sort. I ask a question, he answers. The plan is perfect. During the cornucopia bloodbath, I am to discreetly push one of either District 1 or 2, preferably a guy, into another tribute with a knife, that way when the time comes to kill them, there's only three. For the next few days after that, we are to set up camp and gather everything that remains of the cornucopia. We are to go 'hunting' every night for the potentially dangerous tributes, specifically the district 10 girl. When the threatening tributes are disposed of, me and Aiden will take night watch as the others sleep, then quickly kill them before they know what hits them.

"What about Aiden?" Killing somebody that comes from my home... I just can't.

"After you take out Districts one and two, you and Aiden should split up. Split the supplies, and walk your separate ways." he says. What if Aiden tries to kill me when we're departing?

"Oh. I don't want to kill him." I say. That kind of murder is frowned upon.

"Yeah... Killing somebody from your own district is horrible." he says with a sad smile. My jaw unhinges. This is the first time he's acknowledged that he killed her. I have to keep the topic on Aiden. Now is my chance.

"Speaking of Aiden," I say, quickly changing the subject. "What did he tell you that made you yell at each other?"

"He wouldn't tell me why he asked for separate training." he shrugs. Wouldn't tell him? What kind of plan is that? "Well, I think you've got your entire plan set up. All you have to do now is play the games."

"Alright." I say. I should head to my room. The games lasted ten hours of the day, Aiden's session took up and hour and mine did as well, so it's late. Just when I reach the opening of the hallway, Wyatt speaks up.

"If it means anything, I'm sorry."

"It does." I reply quietly. Believe me, it does.

* * *

Like last morning, I wake up early. By nine o'clock, I've bathed, gotten dressed, and even ordered breakfast—straight from the comfort of my room. I have to admit, the luxury of it all is nice, although I still despise the Capitol. I always will. They force children into an arena to kill each other, all for their _entertainment_. They have prematurely made kids grow up, into murderers. I will never forgive them. Nobody will.

I have an hour until we're to be at the training center. I plan to hit every station on the first day, and then on the second day, I'll go back to the ones I struggled with. On the third day, before the training session, I'll get in as much time as I can with the weaponry. I might as well rest up now, so I lay down on the bed. I hate waiting. I have no patience whatsoever.

Wyatt. He apologized. He still can't bring her back. Just thinking about Cora makes me want to cry, but I can't. I have to present myself to the tributes today, and I don't want to be shown as someone who cries. I have to think of something else. Something that's not sad, but still centered on the games. _The arena_. I wonder what it will be. It's not going to be a volcano, or a jungle. The Capitol wants something _new_. Something to kick off season two with a bang. It will probably an arena with a lot of tricks and traps to it. I really want it to be a regular set of woods, so I can hide in trees, and spear people as they walk below me, but of course the Capitol won't allow that. That would be too easy. I wonder what the main trick will be. In every Game so far, there has been a main trap. A volcano eruption, an avalanche a swarm of beetle, you name it. In the last Game, it was an all-around trap—the carnivorous animals. The all-around idea was well received in the Capitol, so it will most likely happen again. It could even be a hinder to our senses. A blinding sun, A constant horn, you name it. The Capitol will do anything for entertainment.

It's already half an hour after nine. Just when I start to doze off again, Sohalia screams for me to wake up. Damn, I was just getting used to waiting. It's basically a repeat of yesterday morning. She starts screaming "Up!" like I'm some sort of deaf person, and then after she stops screaming at me, she goes off to annoy Aiden. Luckily, he, too, is awake and ready. Sohalia herds us to the elevator and comes aboard with us.

"Aren't we early?" I ask. We're not supposed to get there until ten o'clock sharp.

"It's better to be there early than late." She replies. She's quite the early bird. She even looks like one. Beak-like nose, blue hair. Like a blue jay. I don't have time to form a reply, or even a thank you. The elevator has already stopped.

The doors open up to a large banquet hall with double doors at the far end. That must be the training center. We're the second ones here. The District 1 tributes are awkwardly standing with their escort. The girl is small in stature but I know she has muscles. They showed in her reaping. Now is my chance. But I don't go. How will I introduce myself? What if I come on too strong? I can't do it. I never was the friendly type. I never even had friends, so how am I supposed to pull this off now? I can't walk up to her. I just can't. She's walking away from her district partner. Maybe they got in a fight. Now my plan will never work. She keeps walking away from him. And walks right to me.

"My mentor said that you want us as allies?" she asks. Her voice is so... childish. I almost feel bad for her. Wyatt must have known that I wouldn't do it. That was a jerk move, thinking that I wouldn't do it, but it was also a nice one. I wonder if she wants to ally, or if she is just doing this to make fun of me.

After about a minute of my staring, I barely manage to get out a small "Yes." Wait. What about getting District 2? "And District two." I hope she agrees. "Is that alright with you?" I quickly add. I have to be polite.

She doesn't even think about it. "That's fine with me!" she says a bit too cheerfully. Something's not right. She wouldn't agree to it unless she had something to benefit from it. Or our mentors could have spoken beforehand. That must be it. We continue talking on offhand topics, such as what to do first when we enter the training center.

The other Districts are starting to arrive. When District 2 enters the colossal room, the District 1 girl—Stefanya, as I've learned—leaps at this chance. They talk for about three minutes. I can't hear. I'm too far away. On one occasion, they both look towards me and Aiden. Oddly enough, when they return the district 2 girl says that she would love to be in our alliance. Both have agreed without me even asking them. They would never agree too quickly. Wyatt _must_ have talked to their mentors, or they must see that an alliance would get them farther. That has to be it. I try hard to convince myself that it's true, and for the most part I do, but there's still a little place in the back of my mind that thinks something is wrong.

**A/N: I hate pre-game boredom, but I've made sure that every single chapter has something that will relate in the Games. Interviews hopefully next chapter, then the Games. So about 2-3 days until the actual good bit.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry, sorry, and, once again, sorry! My computer broke down a couple months ago and I (surprisingly) learned to ive without the computer. Then I got into other books, such as 'The Devouring' and 'Gone,' and I even wrote fics for Gone. But fear not, for I am back now. :)**

* * *

The day goes on as normal, despite the fact that Stefanya and the District 2 girl, Alena, are being overly nice to me. They act like they've spoken before, which I don't doubt that they have.

The six of us go around to all of the stations in the first day. The other tributes were a tad shocked, but the vibe from them felt as if they knew this was coming. It had to happen sometime. The strong band together to hunt down the weak. Nature's course.

Aiden isn't bad at anything, but he's not exactly _good_ at anything either. If we had to get percentages in each station, he would get about seventy percent in each.

"So," Stefanya says during our lunch break on the second day. "What do you guys want to go to first?"

The six of us are all at one table, the other Districts staring at us like we're madmen. I don't blame them. We might as well be, considering we're putting our lives in other people hands.

"I want to try spears!" says the District 2 boy, Acanthus, loudly. His name is olden Panem for 'thorn.' I make a mental note to watch out for him. He seems like the type of person to stab you in the back. Violently.

"Same, I need to practice my aim." the slightly larger District 1 boy, Rye, says. The other girls nod their agreement.

_Oh crap!_ If we go to spears, we'll be shown as threats. I have to go somewhere else... A station where they know I'm bad at, so I can say I need to train at it.

"I'm going to go to archery. I can't shoot a bow to save me life." I say, attempting to throw my voice into a subtle octave. It doesn't work. It's obvious that I'm trying to hide something, and they can see that.

"I'll go to spears." Aiden says, speaking up. What? I thought we were supposed to stay away from spears! I need to talk to him.

"Alright then, let's head out." Alena says, with a slight glance to Stefanya. She heads her gaze towards me. "Marina, we'll see you in a bit. Have fun at archery." she says, not trying to single me out, but the effect still happens.

We all get up and start to head out, but I catch Aiden's arm. He knew this would happen, and doesn't try to break away.

"I thought we were staying clear of spears, Aiden." I say, a questioning tone in my voice.

"I'm going with them so that they don't talk about us, or _you_, behind our backs. If I'm there, and they really are trying to set up a secret plan, then I'll know of it." he says, with probably the most emotion in his voice I've ever seen.

My mouth is open, grasping for coherent words but finding none.

"Oh... I see." I say, letting go of his arm. "I'll catch up with your group later."

He leaves without any other words, heading off towards the spears. Well, if I'm all alone, I might as well head off to archery.

I was lying when I said I was bad with a bow and arrows. I'm horrible. The instructor tries to be nice about it, even giving me some helpful pointers, but I'm hopeless. I've got the aim down, and I've got the strength to pull back the bow, but I just can't get the posture right, and my arrows never reach the target.

"No, no, no!" the instructor says, glaring at my elbow. "Hold it up!" I comply. "Now, slowly draw back the arrow, and release."

"Ah!" I scream, as the feathers of the arrow, once again, burn against my wrist. Even in pain, I can still see that I missed, the arrow falling short of the target. I throw down the bow. "Look, it's pretty obvious that I'm awful. I'm going somewhere else."

The instructor looks grateful, happy that he has one less bad person to correct.

Now... where do I go? I should have thought of that before. I scan the room, looking for potential stations I should try. Spears are a definite no, along with knots. Camouflage is pretty pointless to even attempt. I'm a horrible artist.

And then it hits me. _Knives!_ I've gutted and skinned a fish before, and I've thrown them at fish in ponds, but I've never really attacked with them. I head out to the nearly deserted station.

The instructor welcomes me, seeing that I've got experience in throwing knives. He teaches me a few techniques, such as how to hold it correctly when fightig someone at hand-to-hand combat.

A voice from behind shocks me as I throw a knife. "It's nice to see someone in this inexperienced crowd that's actually good with knives."

I turn around, stunned at the sight that's now in front of me. The district 10 girl holds out her hand. She scares me already. Regardless, I take her hand.

"Marina Redsea." I say politely, with a small nod. I may have been raised as a working person, but my mother taught me manners.

"Delta Layne." she says coolly, letting go of my hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I hope you don't mind me here."

"Oh, no. It's fine." I say, with a fake smile on. If I'm here to make allies, I might as well be nice. We turn back to the targets.

"Shouldn't you be with your friends at the spear station? I mean, you are District four." she asks, in every way normally.

"I work in the packaging part. I just skin fish all day." I lie smoothly, glancing to my left to get a view of her target board. Every single knife has hit the circle, close to the center. "You're great with knives. I bet you're a butcher." I say, stealing Aiden's estimation and using it as my own.

"Oh, yes. I also wrangle the cows. It's pretty _fun._" she says, actually turning her head to smile at me. Wait... That must mean that she's also good with ropes. There's only one good reason she's telling me this, and it must be to scare me.

I try not to let my emotions show as I speak. "You must be plenty good with ropes." I say, glancing towards the spear station. Yes! My group is leaving, heading towards the station with a variety of swords, axes, and anything that can kill. "I'll see you in the games."

* * *

Wyatt is as nervous as me. And, believe me, I'm very nervous. Aiden is the calmest of us, not even twitching. We're about to go down into the one-on-one sessions, and Wyatt is telling us tips.

"Do anything, and I mean _anything_, to get their attention. You want them to think 'Oh! District four, yeah I remember them!' not, 'Oh... who?'" he says rambling, and I don't blame him. I would be too if he gave me the chance to speak. "And remember, use up the gym. Don't just stand in one spot, throwing things."

"Alright." I say, slightly ticked off at the fact that he doesn't think we already know this. _No,_ I think. He's just making sure.

"It's time." he says, finally taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. I do the same thing, but it doesn't work. I'm still jittery.

Sohalia comes towards us. "I'm pretty sure you guys can go down on your own." she says, almost tearing up. What's with her? It's not like we're being sent to our deaths yet. We're only going to get scores.

Aiden and I head into the elevator, as a sad Sohalia sends us off. We don't talk at all as we descend towards the bottom floor, Aiden only speaking as the doors slide open.

"I think we're late..." he says quietly. Districts 1 and 2 have already left, the District 3 girl already heading in. I can barely hear him. Regardless, we sit down.

A short fifteen minutes later, Aiden heads off, leaving me alone. My mind is racing. _What do I do?_ Wyatt said to use up all of the space, but I don't get how to do that by just staying in the spear station.

The man by the door calls me, and it takes him three tries before I actually tune in and hear him. Great, now the other tributes think I'm deaf.

I walk in, stiffly putting one lead foot in front of the other. The judges give me the once-over look, one nodding at me to get to work. I head to the spear station, and look over their fine selection. Seeing their variety of spears gives me an idea.

Every single length of spear is hung up against the wall, placed neat and orderly. I grab the longest one, almost three times my height, and two other smaller ones, only two feet long. I head over to the obstacle course, filled with plush white balance beams and bars.

I can tell that this part if the gym hasn't been used in awhile, since the judged look at me expectantly as I stand on one of the balance beams. Working on the docks and fishing boats have made my balance perfect, giving me excellent adaption to swaying and walking on small piers. I grab the largest spear, and slowly walk towards the end of the balance beam. Taking a deep breath, I stab the spear into the plush padding beneath the beam. It hits with a loud thwack, shocking one of the judges. It's in there about

The spear is made out of metal, strong yet lightweight. I hope it doesn't bend under my weight. When Wyatt told me to use the gym, I thought he meant the ground. He probably did, but I'm taking his words in a different context. The air.

Biting onto the smaller spears, I put my hand onto the upright spear and climb, one hand in front of the other, slowly inching myself up. When I get to the bar above me, I don't hesitate to place my left hand on it. The bar is originally meant to spin on it, but I just hang there. Using my right arm—my dominant arm—I grab a spear from my mouth, and then slowly, ever so slowly, I lower my arm and aim.

With a quick flick of my wrist, I release the spear and it heads straight into the throat of a dummy across the room. I grab the other spear, and aim for the body beside it. With another swing of my arm, I launch the spear into the dummy's heart.

One dummy to represent Cora's death, caused by none other than Wyatt Afton, and one dummy to represent my fantasies of killing Wyatt Afton. The judges won't get it, but that doesn't matter.

I release my grip on the bar, dropping swiftly onto the padded ground. I walk over to the knot tying station and make a few fisherman's knots, the finest of District 4, until they tell me to leave.

Something catches my eye as I walk out. Another dummy, on the opposite side of the room. It's torn to absolute shreds, the tan fabric sliced open at every single angle imaginable. I only have one coherent thought. Whoever did that is not to be messed with.

* * *

"So, how did you do?" Sohalia asks, not even one second before I leave the elevator. I don't feel like answering her. I don't even care about if she teaches me bad table manners anymore.

"You don't need to know, Sohalia. You'll see in the games." I say, almost dragging out my words as I head to my room. "Wake me when the scores are on."

My room has never looked so loving and comfortable. I dive for the bed, headfirst, and just relax as the pillows smother my face. I let the thoughts flow to me and the worries as well.

I wonder what Aiden did... I wonder if he did anything at all. Did Districts 1 and 2 talk about me even though Aiden was there? Did he join in? Are they all planning against me?

Thinking hurts too much, but it's the only thing I know how to here that won't get me killed in the arena. If I spear someone here, then they'll take it out on me in the games. They won't even televise the person I'd speared deaths, if I did kill someone. If they showed it to the public, it would tell Panem that people can lash out in defiance. They wouldn't want that, I think, as I drift off into my dreams.

Sohalia's shrill is all too familiar to me when she calls me. "Marina!" she trills, ecstatic about seeing the scores. "The scores are coming on!"

I get up, and almost run towards the room. I head towards my chair, the one I claimed when we watched the Reapings.

"Welcome back to the world of the awake!" Sohalia says, too loud for my ears.

For some reason, be it waking up, or post-score nervousness, I'm fussy. "Whatever, now turn on the screen."

I tune everything out and focus on the screen. The District 1 tributes both pull eights, and Acanthus gets a nine, Alena a seven. The tributes from District 3 both get fives, something I didn't expect. And then they show Aiden. And then me.

I barely register my own nine, still in deep set shock over the fact that Aiden Brandt, the quiet little fire-boy, has gotten the highest mark in Hunger Games history. A twelve.

* * *

**Another A/N: A short section of interviews next chapter, and then the Games. Hallelujah! :)**

**P.S: Sorry x10 for not writing whilst my computer was down.**


	7. Chapter 7

"Your mentor told me that you wanted to go for a more mature approach. Am I correct?" Anero says, looing at me through the tops of his low-riding sunglasses.

"Yes. I don't want to do the 'little girl the the frilly dress' angle. I want to look sleek, and dangerous. Anything that'll get me sponsors." I say to the newly behind me Anero, who's circling me.

"Hmm... We'll do straight hair, with a tighter dress. No frills, like you say." he says, walking over to a giant computer screen, moving his fingers around on the pad. He doesn't look up as he speaks to me. "You're right, by the way. Curly hair made you look a bit childish. Straighter hair gives off a more sophisticated, as well as a somewhat sharkish look." he says, finally smiling at the screen.

With a final tap of his finger, the computer light shuts off and a splash of sky blue shoots out of what I thought was a wall, but really is a closet.

"Here's your dress, custom made. There was actually many others made specially for District four, but this is the one that most suits your angle. Sarcasm can't keep up with this dress." he says, unhooking the dress from the pole it came out on and bringing it forwards towards me.

"I can't wait for the interviews." I say, giddy with excitement. This will be my main chance to get sponsors! But... Aiden got a twelve. He will most likely pull the quiet angle, that way the potential sponsors will think he's dark and mysterious. I need to be better than him. Better than him in every single way imaginable, be it physically and mentally impossible.

"Oh, they'll love you in this dress. " Anero says, lifting the dress up so I can see it. Even from a slight distance, I can see that it will cling to every minimal curve on my body. The light, sky coloured sequins over it glimmer in the bright light of the dressing room. "Now, let's get you ready for the Capitol cameras."

* * *

Stefanya plays the sexy angle, and is dressed head to toe in diamonds. Her head is adorned with a glittering crown, stating that it's practice for the real crown that she'll be wearing. The host, Xavier Marar, simply laughs it off, but then Stefanya stops him.

"It's not a laughing matter." she says, now wide-eyed and serious.

"I never said it was, honey. Who knows, maybe I could've been laughing at all of your competition?" Xavier says, eyeing her with scorn. Xavier has been known to do that. He'll play nice with you until you insult him, then it's all downhill. The first winner learned that the hard way.

The buzzer sounds, ending her minute, and Stefanya struts back to her seat, Rye stepping up. His interview goes seemlessly, except he keeps twitching his leg in discomfort. When noted by Xavier, he replies "Just itching to kill people, Xave."

Alena and Acanthus are practically done in a blur, nothing setting Xavier off. Nothing really standing out, either. I'm vaguely aware that Acanthus is acting strangely calmer than he did in the training area. A strategy, perhaps?

When the District 3 boy is called up, I'm still in my daze. I'm pretty sure he breaks down and cries, but I'm not quite positive...

"And now, for our female District four tribute, Marina Redsea!" Xavier calls, looking at me expectantly. Half-heartedly, I get up off my chair and walk directly to him. My legs are shaky, but that doesn't matter. I could have a broken leg, and my gaze at the audience would keep them distracted.

"So, Marina. It's come to my attention that last year's tribute, Cora Redsea, is your sister?" he asks, starting off with a light conversation air. He thinks that I'm like Cora... He thinks that I'm cute, sweet and innocent. My teeth grit thinking of the comparison.

"Was my sister, Xavier. Was." I say, my eyes scanning the front row of the crowd for Wyatt. If looks could kill, I'm positive my glare would've murdered him. Talking about Cora hurts, but It's been a year, and I've gotten over the main wave of grief. Xavier seems slightly ticked off at my correction, but it goes unnoticed.

"That must be so hard on you. But I have to ask, if your elder sister died in the Games, why did you volunteer?" he asks, speaking as if I'm crazy. Maybe I am. My next tone of voice confirms that accusation.

"Because I can win." I say, not even thinking.

He chuckles slightly, giving me a strange look, then changes the subject. "So, any potential competition?" he asks, nonchalantly.

Yes. This is the type of question I've been waiting for. I glance over my left shoulder, giving the other tributes a once-over look. "Hardly." I try and put as much confidence as I can into my words, but I still find my gaze lingering on Delta Layne from District 10.

Something about her is just... off. Once again, she's wearing a white dress with red splotches over it. Talk about over using an idea.

Xavier brings my head back towards him with his voice. "Who're you looking at?" he asks, with his usual snarkiness.

Well, if I was caught looking, I might as well admit to it. and tell the audience a little about her. "Delta Layne from District ten. Gotta be careful of the cowgirl butcher." I say, turning my head away from her and smiling at Xavier. The screens behind me must be filled with her face. The buzzer sounds, and I proudly walk back to my seat. I didn't do anything bad, but I think that I could have been better.

Xavier is calling Aiden up now, and he rises from his seat beside me. When Aiden reaches Xavier, the conversation begins immeadiately.

"So, Aiden Brandt. What's life like in District four?" Xavier asks, starting off a light conversation.

Aiden's angle does not show. "Great." he says, and shrugs. Maybe bland was his angle.

Xavier, realizing that he's going to get nothing in depth, pushes on. "Any thoughts on your biggest competition?" he says, using the standard question.

Aiden looks to his left like I did, and, also like me, he looks to Delta Layne.

"Only the butcher girl. Someone who kills for a living is certainly dangerous." he says, turning back to Xavier, smiling. Not only has it been said by me, but now Aiden. Now the entirity of Panem knows she's a butcher.

They go on to the topic about Aiden's training score, and the thought of him getting anhigher score than mine makes me grit my teeth. Aiden says it's a secret for the games, and then, as if on cue, his buzzer rings. A minute is too short for me to handle.

"Better watch out District ten!" Xavier calls towards them. "District four is out for you!"

None of the other interviews matter to me. Almost every other tribute got a low to medium score, so it's not like the pose a threat.

All too soon, District ten is up. Delta walks up to Xavier, who starts off with the expected question.

"So, Delta Layne. What do you think about all this expectations of rivalry from District four?" he says, angling his head to the side.

"It's only natural. I mean, you're going to hate who's your opponent. I have bad intentions against Marina because she can weild spears, and Rye beause he can use a pickaxe." she says, almost as if it's the simplist thing in the world. Maybe it is, because I cleared away from spears the entire group training session. Did everyone know? That doesn't matter. Everyone knows now.

They start to talk about life in District 10, Delta making no attempt to keep the butcher fact a secret. The buzzer sounds and she walks peacefully to her seat.

I don't care about these interviews anymore. I only care about the Games.

* * *

Anero leads me to the underground chamber. It's got the vibe of a basement, with cement walls and a matching floor. The slaughterhouse. I hope Delta thinks of this as home, because it's the last thing she's going to see of home.

"Here's your arena outfit." he says, handling me a slim pile of clothes. I unfold them, and it's not what I expect.

"Why is it just light black pants, a plain black shirt, and a black sweater?" I say, confused. "Usually it's different shades of green, with thicker clothing."

"Well, maybe they just decided to go a defferent direction for the color. And if it's thinner, then the arena is probably warmer."

"Oh..." I say. I don't want a desert! I want water. Luscious, beautiful, silky water!

"It's time." he says, leading me to a circular silver plate. A glass sheild comes down around me, following the shape of the plate. Anero sends me one last look of pity before my podium rises into darkness.

The voice of Amaran Codger, the host of the Games, rings out while I'm still rising upwards. "And now, I present to you, the sixth Hunger Games!"

The plate stops, and a blast of cool air breezes through my hair. My eyes settle on the surroundings, widening and trying to adjust to the sight. I can vaguely see the golden horn of the cornucopia. Nothing else is visible, because our arena is my shrouded in my biggest fear. Darkness.

* * *

**A/N: Huzzah! The Games are finalyyyyyyyyyy here! ;D**

**I can finally kill people off now. ^^**


	8. Chapter 8

No. No, no no! Any arena but this! Anything but the dark. I know in my heart that I will not survive the dark. I'll be dead, just like Cora. My mother... How will she cope?

No. I can't think like that. I have sixty seconds. Sixty seconds to calm down. Sixty seconds to take in the slightly visible surroundings. Sixty seconds to prepare to kill.

My mother won't live with herself if both of her daughters die. Neither will my father. And that's why, when the gong rings, I sprint off of my patform and head instantly for the cornucopia. I trip over something, but it doesn't matter. I pick myself up and run a short while more, only stopping when I run into the golden horn.

"Watch out, District four." says a female voice to my right, at the entrance of the bounty. The voice shocks me, but then I sink into relief, knowing that it's only Stefanya. "Now, hurry up and take some supplies. We need as much as we can get. Alena should be here soon. Same with Acanthus and Rye. They're just..." she pauses, looking or the word. "Slower than us." she finishes, and in the dark, I can barely make out two perfect rows of teeth smiling at me. The smile is weird... Almost coy, and dangerous. I don't trust her. I don't trust anybody.

"Sorry I'm late." a male voice says, coming up from the other side of the horn. Acanthus comes around to the opening with Stefanya and I, looting the goods inside. "I ran into some trouble." he says, holding up a dagger that he must have found on the ground. It's covered in blood.

In one second, he's holding the dagger, and in the second after that, he's raising it above his head with unprepared speed. He flicks it forward, towards me. It heads right past my right shoulder, nearly hitting my head. It lands with a sickening thud into something behind me.

I spin around instantly, only to find the gruesome sight of a boy, about a year younger then me, falling to the ground. I need to get used of this sight. If I'm to win, I need to get over blood and gore.

Stefanya calls my name. "Marina. Look for a weapon." I would love to, Stefanya, except for the fact that I cannot see anything.

I put my hands out, desperately searching for a weapon, almost crying out in joy when my hands come upon a long, wooden, spear.

"I've got a spear!" I call out, desperately looking for someone not in my alliance. Most of the people are too scared to run to the cornucopia, so they run away and hide. Others, like the boy behind me, had the courage but not the skill to get away.

I feel calm with my spear. It makes me forget about the surrounding darkness, if only for a little while. Knowing that I have a spear is knowing that I have a shred of safety, and I cling to that fact.

Now that I'm more settled down some, I spare an eye on my surroundings. It's not completely dark, but more of a very hazy and dark twilight. The blackness has that one-hour-until-midnight feel. I can see a little bit in the distance, but I'm still afraid of the dark. The arena seems to have... lightened up, almost as if the Capitol realized that the camera's couldn't capture footage in complete darkness. That, or I'm finally adjusting to it. I'm guessing the latter.

I look to my comrades, still digging through the pile. In the distance, I can see a bright neon red flare bobbing with two other people. It's extremely tough to see, but the red makes it official. Aiden is over by the edge with Alena and Rye. Damn. There goes my plan to kill one of them in the beginning battle. I look over to Acanthus and Stefanya, but something stops me.

Right behind the now standing Acanthus is a boy, I guess to be from District 7. No one of importance, I think with a smirk. I raise my spear and fire it forward, hitting the boy straight on in the head. The move surprises Acanthus, but then he realizes what I've done and he nods his thanks.

"We're even." I say, proud of today's not-so-much-of-a-battle. Only three deaths that I know of, but there might be more if Aiden, Alena, or Rye found a weapon.

Stefanya pulls up from the pile. "Not much of a battle," she says. "It's like they all ran away from us in fear." she adds, flashing one of her glorious yet dangerous smiles.

I try and get on par with her tone. It doesn't quite work. "Well, this is the start of the Games, after all. It will take a while before the Capitol gets the bloodbath every time. Kids need to get into the habit of the Games," I say, hoping to make the sense it made in my own head.

In my visions of the future, kids will get the Games over with quickly, because they'll have grown up around violence and murder. The capitol will get a bloodbath every time, in the future Games. Will there ever be a future Games? Will they ever stop? I don't know. I don't want to know. All I need to know right now is winning.

Alena, followed by Rye and Aiden, comes up from behind Stefanya, nodding to me and Acanthus is acknowledgement. "Most of the kids were younger. They ran," Alena says, glancing at the treasure and lifelines in the cornucopia.

Rye chips in. "That's good for us. We'll have all the supplies for ourselves."

Stefanya turns on him, losing a slight bit of patience with her district partner. "You don't even know what these supplies are, Rye. Now, two people stand guard while the rest of us pick through all of this," she snaps, slightly annoyed.

"Yes ma'am." Rye says, quickly looking through the pile for something. He pulls out with a large, silver hatchet. "Now I've got something to actually guard with." he says, not really snapping back, but putting force into his words. He mumbles the next part. "Besides, it's pretty hard to stand watch in the dark."

Acanthus, Stefanya and I pick through the supplies. It's mostly packaged food from the Capitol, obviously a marketing ploy. We go through a variety of different things, such as a bounty of knives, several first aid kits, and a trundle of nets. The nets will prove to be useful to me if we can find water, but from what we can see—which is not a lot—there's no water.

I pick up another item mindlessly. Putting my finger in every crevice to define the shape. It's shaped like an extremely rounded rubber cube, except it's open and hollow. And there's... a rubber band attached to the back. "Goggles!" I shout, slightly shocking Stefanya. We use goggles all the time in District 4 to underwater dive.

"Huh?" Stefanya says, glancing at me.

"Goggles! For water! That must mean an ocean or lake is in this arena!" I say, slightly ticked off at her not knowing what this could mean.

I put them to my chest, in a loving gesture. I want to be close to an object that is practically a sign of my lifeline. So this has what the Games have turned me into. Hugging an inanimate object. When I pull them back to put them into a bag we found, I stop.

Inside the goggles, I see... red. Pools and pools of red. Oranges too, and yellows. It's an explosion of colors. I gawk at it, the gears clicking into place in my head. Stefanya catches my look.

"What are you doing," she says, shifting her body into a sitting position. The flash of red is gone as she moves her feet.

"Heat seeking." I whisper, like it's the best thing in the world. Who knows, it just might be. I slowly put them to my face, not wanting to break this amazing chance. Stefanya erupts into a map of colours, a neon Acanthus behind her. I can see three little orange figures slightly in the distance, and behind that... a fourth.

I quickly look for a spear through the pile, finding one and turning back around. Yes, the fourth person is still there. I ignore Stefanya's protests, and head forward.

The figure doesn't see me coming around to her tree. She—I can tell by the body figure—tries to turn away and run once I get close enough for her to see me. She doesn't get far, because my spear is already lodged in her neck. It's eerily reminiscent of Cora's death. I shove the thought and mental picture away, telling myself that it will only make me weak.

Suddenly, something comes up from behind me. I twist around, heart beating like crazy.

Somewhere in my attacking the girl, my goggles had dropped off. But that doesn't matter, because even in the dark I can see Alena's pale face.

"Stefanya told me to come check up on you," she said, looking to the dead body on the ground. "But I can see that you're fine."

"Yeah. Can't have anybody lurking around, can we?" I ask, tilting my head towards her. But she doesn't her my last words, because the large, serrated blade has already slammed into her face. Blood spurts out uncontrollably

I spin to where the attack came from, probably the fastest I've ever moved in my life. If I said my heart was beating like crazy before, then now it's beating like it's on some sort of Capitol drug.

And there, in the darkness, do I realize why one of my assistants had said that my hair would be great in the arena. My hair is black. Black as night. Black that can be used for camouflage. The head of neon blonde hair about four trees away, however, is easy to pick out in this night. Only one person has hair that blonde. Delta Layne.

**A/N: Finally. It's so great to be at the part I love the most. ;D**


	9. Chapter 9

Delta Layne. I'd hoped to eliminate her in the somewhat-battle at the beginning, but most of the people had ran away. She must have stayed behind. To pick off my group members, no doubt.

I'm too shocked to move, but a thought breaks through my paralysis. A weapon. I reach beside me, yanking the spear out of the dead girl's pierced esophagus. In an instant, I'm ready to attack.

But... something stops me. For the other people I've speared, I never spoken to them. With Delta, it's different. I've met her. I shook her hand. I know that I'm supposed to kill people in these Games, and I've accepted that fact. But in theory, it's easy to acknowledge that fact and get past it. In reality? A completely different story.

Regardless, my spear stays poised for attack. I might not be able to kill her at just this moment, but I can still act like I can.

I scan my eyes over her body. No visible weapons, but that doesn't mean she doesn't have any stashed in her clothing. I keep my guard up, along with my spear.

"Marina. It's nice to see you again," Delta says, almost like we're friends.

I can't speak. I can't say anything. I can't even make a sarcastic remark to get the viewer's attention. I feel like breaking down. I can't even kill Delta Layne.

Delta interrupts my sulking. "You know," she begins hesitantly; "we might make a good team. Everyone knows that your group is going to turn on you. We should be allies. We can take them all out before the fun even starts." She slowly walks towards me, her arms out to show that she has no weapons to take me down. I still don't trust her.

"No..." I say, my facial expression faltering. She has this weird, shark-like quality that I don't like. "I'm happy in my alliance."

Great. Now the Capitol thinks I'm a pansy who can't attack somebody.

"Oh," she says, frowning. "Then I guess you won't be useful to me"

Without a moment's hesitation, she lunges towards me at full speed. I barely have time to dodge right before her knife—which she must have pulled out of her sleeve, the tricky girl—grazes the tree I was standing in front of only a second ago.

I was so close to death! If I had only stayed in that spot for one moment longer, I would be dead. Delta Layne had nearly killed me! I stumble backwards, backing up against another tree. When I press my back against the tree, it gives me a sense of security. One less side for anyone to attack from.

She walks tentatively towards me, and I can tell that she's not going to throw her knife. By the way she's holding it, I can tell that she wants to stick it in me herself. She's going so slow, afraid of what I can do if I release my spear. My spear! I had nearly forgotten about that. It's too dark for me to pierce her accurately, but if she gets closer...

I can feign being scared, and then she might walk a bit faster, so I get a target, but she'll also have the opportunity to get close to me. I don't want her anywhere close enough for her to strike. But still, it's my only option. I must do it.

Another downside, I sadly realize, is the audience. Unless there's a major fight going on right now—which I highly doubt there is, considering everybody ran at the start of the Games—and people are dying, then me and Delta Layne are on every single television and screen in Panem.

"Scared, Marina?" she asks, tempting me to attack. I hold back, knowing that the only way to finish her is to deceive her.

Now, I'm not the best actor in the world, but I can open my eyes wide and fake shock. I know she's going to step in more quickly, and then try to swiftly take me out. And then, when she's close to me, will I strike my spear through her midsection.

Torturous, yes, but the skull is slightly harder to pierce. Too much concrete-like bone. The boy that I killed in the start of the Games was only a fluke, a lucky strike. A hit through the abdomen? Easy to accomplish. It'll even leave her alive. Then I'll kill her slowly, to show the audience that I was faking it. I didn't want to kill her before, but now that she's attacked me... Well, things are different now. I want to smile at the thought of killing her, but I can't because then she'll know I'm feigning being scared. But oh, the temptation to smile.

She has a grim smile on her face as she prowls up to me. It's frightening, her smirk. It's like a shark's mouth has replaced hers. I know what she'll do. She's so close now, less than a tree away. Everything is slow now. She will extend her arm, and then all in one motion; I'll strike out, while she's paying attention on where she cuts.

Only she doesn't.

Her eyes focus somewhere behind me, trying to adjust to the darkness, but she knows something is there. All in one second—or less than—she's turned away and is running, nearly blind, through the forest of pine trees. She's not that far. I can reach her if I throw far enough, and then maybe I can hit her!

I fling my arm forward, tensing it for strength, but all I hear is soft thud as the tip hits wood. Damn. No hit.

She ran away. Why? I vaguely remember her looking over my shoulder. What if it's an animal! Or another tribute! Why didn't I think of what people could hear of us! I spin around from my tree quickly, shocked by the pale blonde in front of me. At first, I think it is Delta Layne, come to attack from another angle, but it's only Acanthus. No wonder she ran. That boy could kill anyone with a small look.

"Where the hell have you been?" he says, not quite happy. Regardless, he continues, "One moment, you're digging through the cornucopia, the next; you're running off yelling some stuff about goggles."

I stutter, afraid of his massive presence, "They were... heat-seeking goggles. I saw a girl in the forest, so I ran out and killed her. And then... Delta Layne..." By the end of it, I'm not even sure I'm speaking. How do I tell Acanthus, Alena's partner, that she has died?

"Huh?" he says, dumbfounded as I. "That bloody girl?"

"She... killed Alena," I sputter out, trying to point out Alena's cold corpse on the pine-needled floor. When I finally see the outline of it, I walk over to her. Well, it. There's no more soul in there, so it's not really a person anymore.

Acanthus follows, speaking up when we get there. He crouches down beside the body. "Bitch had it comin' the moment she came into the Games," he mumbles, barely audible above the wind rustling the trees.

"I thought she was actually nice," I say, thinking back to the few times I talked to her. She wasn't as out there as Stefanya. She was quieter, laid back. But still, I hadn't really thought that she'd liked me.

"Yeah, well you didn't have to spend more than ten minutes with her," he grumbles, still facing the body.

"True," I admit. She must've had a personality of some sort. She just didn't show it to me.

He stands up, but only after removing the knife from her bloodied and broken face. "Well, we better get back. Stefanya'll bitch at us if we don't hurry up," he says. I don't need to know Stefanya to know that she's punctual. It showed during the training sessions. It showed a _lot_.

"Yeah," I agree, following him out of the woods. We're almost to the clearing when something stops me.

"Why did you stop?" he asks, looking over his shoulder at me.

"The goggles," I start, "I forgot them by the... bodies."

"Oh," he says. "I'll meet you back at the cornucopia. I have to explain what happened to Stefanya." Without another word, he continues his long strides to our main group.

I walk, blindly, to the body of Alena and the unknown girl who I speared. I think she's from District 12, but that's just a guess. Maybe District 11. It doesn't matter, they're all weaklings.

After a moment of paranoid searching on the ground, I find them. Quickly, I put them on and look around. Nothing but blackness. No explosion of red like last time. Reluctantly, I head back. It's good having that sense of security, but I still can't help but feel paranoid. You never know what kind of trap the Capitol has next.

* * *

**A/N: Now, as much as I would love to just kill off Delta Layne right now, and then kill off every single person, I can't. A character has to have flaws, and they can't win every battle they come across. That is why Delta got away. It sucks, but it's the right thing to do. I don't want a Mary Sue character. D:**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: This was actually meant to be two chapters, but they were short so I combined them.**

* * *

We set up camp in a small—and by small, I mean small—clearing, surrounded by berry bushes and pine trees. It's hard to tell what type of berry it is, but until we find a source of light, no one has the guts to eat them.

Aiden had organized all of the food into five black bags while I was off with Delta. Originally, there was six bags of food, but Alena doesn't need one anymore. We split up the sixth bag evenly.

As for the weapons? They sit in front of us right now. Stefanya, Rye, Acanthus, Aiden and I are all sitting in a pentagon-shaped circle. We don't know what to do with the weapons. Split them up, or share them. We have no idea, whatsoever. There was something missing that the other games have, but I can't quite place it. I'm obviously paranoid, no doubt.

"Well... We might aswell say what we're good at, and what we want to take," Stefanya says, sitting to my left.

"It's pretty obvious that I want spears," I say, giving up all hope at trying to hide that I'm trained in them.

"Aiden? Do you handle spears as well?" Stefanya asks, once again supplying the sparce conversation. She is like a dulled down, less annoying—and less neon, I must add—version of Sohalia.

Aiden, barely heard, mumbles, "No. I'll be fine with just a knife."

"I want the hatchet, the mace, and the sword!" Acanthus adds loudly. Of course he does, with arms like his.

"Rye?" Stefanya says, "What do you want to use?"

Rye shrugs. "Anything. A knife, an axe. Whatever is good."

"Good. I'll take the bow and arrows." Stefanya says, picking up the light-coloured bow. I know this wood. It's oak. Oak is common is Distict 4. We make canoes and small boats out of it.

I look at them with hidden digust. What are they trying to do? Play house? We all sit and talk here like normal human beings, but it's obvious that we all want to rip eachother's throats out. Nonetheless, I don't attack. There's no way I can kill Acanthus or Rye. I'll have to get them while they're sleeping. Or, let them battle it out themselves. I smirk. I'd enjoy seeing that.

I can't enjoy it any longer though, because a massive boom erupts in the arena. The cannons. We all count, silently to ourselves. One... Two... Three... It goes on for a few more seconds. Six. I count six. That's one fourth of the tributes, already dead, and today hasn't even began to start yet.

Stefanya brings me back to reality with her strategious voice. "So, what do you think of the arena?" she asks to no one in particular.

"It's getting darker..." I say slowly. "It probably gets even darker at night, like now. In the beginning, it was like a one-hour-to-midnight dark, but now it's pitch black."

"Damn, it's a good thing we found those heat-seekin' thing. We'd be in trouble if we didn't," Acanthus drawls.

"Speaking of the goggles," I start. "How many pairs were there?"

"About six that we know of. It could be more, like one per tribute, but I have got no clue," supplies Stefanya. Damn.

Acanthus, bored of the non-killing talk, changes the subject. "I say we go out hunting for tributes," he says nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Maybe he's doing it for the viewers, maybe for the sponsors. Maybe he's just a messed up person inside. I don't know. I don't want to know.

Aiden speaks up. "We should go in pairs. It would be best that way, because then we would have someone to watch your back, along with one person staying here and guarding these."

"So, who gets stuck with gaurding duty?" Acanthus says, thinking it as a bad thing.

Aiden, quickly, takes the posisition. "I'll do it," he says, probably the quickest I've heard him answer.

"Fine by me," Stefanya says. "As for partners..."

"I want to be with Rye!" Acanthus practically screams. "We're both strong enough to take down the bigger tributes."

"Fair enough," Stefanya says, then turns to me and adds, "I guess I'm with you then, Marina. we'll meet back in a couple hours. Not too long, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now, lets go hunting!" Acanthus, once again, yells.

* * *

"Tributes," Stefanya whispers, pointing to a bush behind me, I turn my head, trying not to crack the branch that I'm currently residing on. We're perched up on the lower arms of a small spruce tree, watching for tributes. This is our first encounter, and we've been waiting for an hour.

We watch them as they set up camp a few trees away from us, wanting them to sit down soon so we can get a slight headstart.

They speak, as they set up. This only makes it harder to watch, but slightly more... enjoyable. They get to talk before they die. Little do they know that these will be their parting words. They lay down, a fair distance apart from eachother. They're allies, but not friends. Typical.

It's tough to see them, but the goggles make it easier. I can make out a smaller figure, and a slightly larger one. Nothing dangerous.

The smaller one, obviously feminine, speaks. "I'm scared, Andre," she says in a slight voice. She doesn't know that anyone is around.

"Well thoughen up, Zo," says the larger one, now revealed by his voice to be a boy. "We're in the Hunger Games now. We need to be strong and win, for District seven's sake."

District 7... They didn't stick out. The girl was twelve, the boy was fifteen. Not scrawny, but definetly not anything close to Rye or Acanthus.

Stefanya gently nudges me on the shoulder, trying not to startle me. "I'm going in," she whispers. "Stay here... I'll take them out."Even in the dark, eyes masked by goggles, I can see her grim, white grin. A ploy for the sponsors, no doubt.

"Be careful," I mumble to her as she prepares to hop off our low branch. We're far enough away that we can hop down quietly and not be heard.

Slowly, she whispers back, "I'm going to sneak up on them... Not right away. I'll spend about half an hour on the ground, waiting for them to get drowsy, then I'll get them with a knife."

"Good plan," I say as she finally takes the slight leap off the tree. She lands swiftly, not alerting our prey.

Half an hour... That'll be a thing to wait out, especially in silence.

My mind wanders, on everything from home to here. Home... So many thing I need to know before I die, not that I plan to. But really... it's not going to hurt if I think about what would happen if I lose.

A stray thought pops into my head. The baskets. I'd completely forgotten about the little wicker baskets with money in them that had been delivered to my house. Now that I've seen the true course of Cora's death, it's obvious that Wyatt sent them.

Wyatt. The jerk. Still, it was nice of him to answer her last wishes. I hope he continues to even if something happens and I don't return home. I can't believe I used to have feelings for him. Nothing major, of course. Only small rushes of excitement when we talked. That was all, but that all went away once he came home.

Stop, I tell myself. That was the past, this is now. I need to pay attention. I put on my goggles once again and look to the three redded figures. Stefanya is slowly creeping up to them, her arm reaching into her belt for her knife.

She'll do the girl first, since she's closer. She's almost to her now... just a few more steps. She leans down over the sleeping girl, as if not to wake her, but she does.

"Ahhhh!" she squeals, earning a grunt from the boy.

Stefanya quickly sticks the knife in her, all of her protests snuffed out like a flame. Her cannon, loudly, fires. The boy, now sitting up, is reaching inside a bag for something. A knife, most likely. Stefanya can handle herself.

But then it hits me... District 7. Lumber. Chopping down wood, with axes.

If I come back with no Stefanya, my group will think that I killed her. I can't have that. I'm on the ground before I can scream my protests.

"Stefanya!" I scream, sprinting for her little clearing. She doesn't pay attention to me. She keeps heading towards the frantic boy.

"District Seven!" I yell to her. Still no response. "He can use an axe!"

That, however, catches her attention. Sadly, it rips her gaze away from the boy crawling with an axe. He barely catches her in the thigh with a disgusting thwack.

I had to brains to bring my spear from the tree, and I throw it in his direction. My spears barely hits his hand. It was meant to hit his abdomen, but his palm was in the way.

He switches his axe to the other hand, ripping the spear out in the process. I'm weaponless and shocked as he rears up and heads for me. I quickly try to dodge backwards, but his axe still gets my left forearm, making me scream and fall down.

The pain is unbareable. If I thought the prep team was bad, then I'm completely wrong. This is one hundred times that.

I'm on my knees, my head bowed. I rip my head from the sight of my blood stained jacket to look for where the next attack might come from.

There's no attack. Stefanya has gotten up from her slump, unlike me. She's already stabbed him in the gut, but his cannon hasn't fired.

"I'm going to make him pay for this," she says through gritted teeth. Her thigh is bleeding, but not much. As I said, the axe only just barely caught her leg. Still, it must hurt.

Through the pain, I manage to stand up. She is leaning over the boy, who has fallen to the ground. Her knife is on his face, teasing his skin.

"If you're going to kill him, hurry up with it," I say, trying to act nonchalantly. I hope it works, but I know some of the bravado shows through. He's crying for his life now, bargaining for his life like a gambling chip.

"You're right," she says, and then turns to the boy and adds, "you're not worth it." She drags the knife across his neck, blood following wherever her knife touches. It spreads into his shirt like a wildfire. His cannon sounds less than a second after he hits the ground.

"Let's get back," I mumble, clutching my arm. The cut isn't deep, but it's not shallow either. It hurts like mad.

"No. I need to tend to my leg," she says, then looks at me. "A little help here?"

"Oh," I say, "right." I walked over to her and put my right arm—my good arm—around her back to support her. We walk, slowly, away from the bodies and sit on a fallen log. She immeadiately heaves her leg up on the log.

"Check for tributes," she breathes. Another thing I forgot. My goggles are hanging around my neck, and I hastily put them on, turning my head side to side as I survey the area. No splotches of red I can see.

"All clear," I say.

"Good. Ah, this hurts so badly. Hey, do you have any bandages?" she asks. And then it hits me.

Bandages! That's what was missing from the cornucopia. There wasn't a signle first aid kit in the entire stash. No disinfectant, no nothing. Not even a band-aid.

"There was no healing supplies in the cornucopia," I say to her, but she's not looking at me. She's looking to the sky, and that can only mean one thing.

"Well it's about time we got a gift," she says as the silver parachute lands between us. I let her take it first, still gaping at what the parachute held.

A little wicker basket, the kind I know so well. I know, without a doubt, who sent this, but I don't dare to tell Stefanya that.

She pulls out a roll of tan strips, obviously bandages, and another thing. A small, piece of neon white paper. She reads it, and, in spite of herself, laughs. Once she has collected herself, she hands it to me.

"It looks like we've got fans," she says with another one of her smiles.

I read it, but I don't laugh like Stefanya. This isn't something good. A couple years ago, I would have loved news like this. Now? I never want to think about it. Because deep in my mind, I know that when I return home, this will come haunt me, and someday, I'll have to face it. Whether it really was from a fan, or if it was from _him,_ I can't stop thinking about those little words written on a scrap of paper.

_I'll keep you alive._

**

* * *

**

A/N: So, I know that may seem lame, but it's important in later chapters (as in, _REALLY_ important. I've got the entire story mapped out on paper). It was either that, or 'I love you,' and I really don't like writing romance in the Hunger Games. Besides, this is strictly a non-romance games.


End file.
